


Walking and Wishing

by Dajo



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pokemon GO, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Insinuation that Cecil would choose Squirtle as his starter, Misunderstandings, Needless description of a time paradox, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 13:31:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7510245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dajo/pseuds/Dajo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The launch of a certain application reaches Night Vale. The citizens become obsessed with catching Monsters. Cecil reports the epidemic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking and Wishing

Hello, listeners.

First, an update on the ongoing epidemic. It is still an epidemic. It is still ongoing. It shows no signs of becoming less of an ongoing epidemic.

People are gathering in a small crowd outside the station as I speak. I sent intern Vicky out to shoo them away twelve minutes ago. She has not returned. She has joined the crowd. She is staring at her phone, tapping every so often, talking to people in some kind of code. Or, at least, they’re words I’ve never heard, and therefore I can only assume they are a code. To the family of intern Vicky... You’re probably staring at your phones too, so, I guess, sorry?

I suppose I ought to give a traffic update. There is no traffic. There are no cars. Everybody has abandoned their cars in favour of walking from place to place, landmark to landmark, tapping their phone the whole way. Even the ghost cars have been abandoned. Ghosts are walking up the roads, tapping ghost phones. I called the Sheriff to ask if I was legally allowed to acknowledge the existence of ghost phones or ghost technology as a whole, but I got their voicemail. The Sheriff must have just bought a new phone and not gotten around to setting a voicemail message yet because the recorded message was just the generic default one that comes on every smartphone these days. Three hours of uninterrupted screaming as somebody knits a sweater in the distance until a robotic voice interrupts and says “please leave... a message after the tone. Ha, I bet you thought I was asking you to leave. That would be so rude of me. I mean, you just got here. Beep. Just kidding, that wasn’t the actual tone. Beep. Haha! Got you again. Okay, okay, here’s the real one” and then there’s a chorus of children screaming out in harmonised agony and you can finally leave your message.

And now, a word from our sponsors.

**_Ever find yourself wishing? Wanting? Wanting more? Wanting less? Wanting something? Wanting everything? Wanting nothing? Wanting? Watching? Waiting? Wishing? Willing? Waxing? Waning? Wishing? Wishing? Wishing? We know. We know exactly what you wished for. We have a list right here. In third grade, you wished for a bicycle. In fourth grade, you wished for a helmet. In fifth grade, you wished Pokémon would be real._ **

**_Niantic, Inc._ **

**_Be careful what you wish for._ **

  


And now, the community calendar.

 

Monday is free Amazon Prime day! Everybody will receive free Amazon Prime for twenty-four hours which they will use to purchase government-mandated syringes and carnelian.

 

Tuesday is gross.

 

Wednesday is a disaster. Not that there will be a disaster- more that the whole concept of Wednesday is and will be a disaster in and of itself. It's just a real disaster, you know?

 

Thursday is the causal paradox bake-off. You will want to bake a cake. The ingredients will be in your kitchen. You will not know how you came to acquire these ingredients. It will not matter. You will seek out a wooden spoon with which to mix the ingredients. You will not have a wooden spoon. Yourself will appear. Yourself will give you a wooden spoon. You will bake a cake. You will realise you now have to give the wooden spoon to your past self. You will break into the Museum of Forbidden Technologies, hijack a time machine and deliver the spoon to your earlier self. You will continue to live your life. You will never question where the spoon came from in the first place.

 

Friday is... Friday is... Hold on, let me... Vicky, you didn't write anything about Friday! Oh. She's... She's still outside. There's nothing about Saturday or Sunday either. So... I suppose... They'll be surprises. Three whole days of surprises. Which is... Nice. I'm glad. I'm so very, very glad.

 

_Wishing?_

 

Listeners, I have a voicemail from Carlos. He seems unaffected by the current epidemic. Probably because he's too invested in Science today. He is always so invested in Science. Last night we watched a documentary about the migration and breeding habits of Librarians and he pointed out every single statistical anomaly and urban legend until a member of a vague yet menacing government agency was forced to come in and confiscate the DVD. Then we had dinner by candlelight, and he touched my hand with his, and our eyes locked. His were watering. The sight of his eyes watering made mine water, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing- that this moment was _correct._ It was just _correct._ From a Scientific standpoint, everything was correct. From a poetic standpoint, everything was correct. From the standpoint of the vague yet menacing government agency still standing awkwardly in the corner holding the DVD because they forgot how doors work, it was correct. We were meant to be in that moment. We were meant to be together. He was meant to be heavily invested in Science. I was meant to be heavily invested in Community Radio. I was meant to be his Cecil. He was meant to be my Carlos. We were meant to be each other's.

 

Uh.

 

Yes.

 

The voicemail. Let's listen together.

 

**“ _Cecil, have you seen everyone out there? Wow. I didn't know there were so many smartphones in Night Vale! I thought most models were outlawed. This is interesting. I've been out there asking what's causing this. I thought, maybe, everybody's eyes and hands had suddenly become magnetised to their phones. I thought, maybe, I should investigate. Scientifically. So I did, I asked them, and they all said it's a new app. It's called Pokémon Go, Cecil, and apparently it's making monsters appear all over Night Vale. Not the usual monsters, either. Not Quentin, the monster that lives under our bed. New monsters. About one hundred and fifty one kinds of monster, everywhere, invisible to anybody that doesn't have this app. I tried downloading the app for myself, but apparently it isn't compatible with the OS on my phone, which is disappointing. Maybe you could get one of your interns to download it and investigate? Also, I have a new copy of the Librarian documentary, so we can finish watching tonight. I'll be quiet this time. Love you. See you tonight.”_**

 

Well then.

 

There you have it, listeners. There are monsters invading Night Vale. So often we are invaded. So often there is some demonic presence that seeks only to bring and to cause ruin. So often our town is threatened.

 

And so often, I make mistakes.

 

I should not have sent Vicky out to investigate. I should have investigated myself. I am a reporter- I should report.

 

I'm downloading the app right now. It's installing. It's done. There is an image of a terrifying dragon-like beast with a gaping maw revealing pointed teeth emerging from the water to consume an unsuspecting citizen. It brings with it a warning to always be aware of your surroundings. It is a terrifying image, but I will continue. There is a man. He is wearing casual lab attire, and has hair the grey of concrete. I'm skipping through his text. I don't want to hear his honeyed words. Now I'm choosing what I look like. There are several options for the colour of the stripe on my shoes but only two choices for my gender which is not accurate to real life. In real life, there are infinite gender options and very few shoe stripes after the great shoe stripe purge of 1995. For this app to so brazenly display all these different shoe stripes in direct defiance of the world government... It fills me with fear. No- not fear. Concern. No- not concern. Fear. I am filled with fear. The next screen is... Oh no. There are... Three monsters in this room. There is a... flaming lizard, a quadrupedal beast with plant life growing from its back, and... A very adorable turtle. What happens if I... Oh. Oh, listeners. Listeners. The turtle. The turtle is in the studio. I can't physically see it in front of me but the image on my phone shows the turtle standing on the desk. What do I... Do I just... Oh! I... Caught it? I captured it. That was... Fun! Aww, I've always wanted a pet turtle. Where can I find more of these monsters? It says there's a pigeon nearby. I think... I think I have to catch them all.

 

_Wishing?_

 

I'm... Listeners. I'm... I'm going... I'm going to catch the monsters. I'm... Sorry. The app has taken hold of me. I must leave, to join the crowds huddled around the dim glow of their phones. I must leave you with the weather.

 

 

[TODAY'S WEATHER](https://soundcloud.com/dajojago/todays-weather)

 

 

Hello again, listeners.

 

I joined the crowds. I joined the community of people looking for monsters. I put on my cap, bled on the station door and walked out into town. I found several rats, pigeons, and even a snake. John Peters, you know, the farmer, found a rock with arms. Old woman Josie found a flaming horse. Intern Vicky walked to the Arby's and was presented with an egg. All of us were enraptured. All of us were succumbing to the grip the app had on us. All of us collectively wished.

  
We all wanted to be the very best, like no-one ever was. To catch them was our real test. To train them was our cause. We would travel across the desert, searching far and wide, using these monsters to understand the power that was inside.

 

We did not know what this meant.

 

We did not have time to find out.

 

All of our phones ran out of battery power. It seemed we had all been so heavily invested in catching monsters that we neglected to charge our phones. We all looked at each other, shrugged, and went back to our day to day lives.

 

So I guess that's another problem solved? Another epidemic avoided? It went not with a bang, but with a whisper, with a shrug, with a community-wide grumble of reluctant acceptance.

 

But is it fair to call it an epidemic? Let us look at the issue... Scientifically.

 

We were together, Night Vale. All of us- even the ones without compatible devices- were together. Whether or not we believed in mountains, whether or not we believed in a smiling god, whether or not we believed in ourselves, we had a common cause. We had monsters to catch. We shared this experience with each other. We compared monsters. Did I tell you I found a cat? I named it Khoshekh. You know, after my other cat. You know.

 

So is it fair to say this was a bad thing? We all had fun. We all enjoyed ourselves. People, Erikas, hooded figures, sentient patches of haze, faceless old women, the Sheriff's secret police, even Mayor Dana- all of us were out, walking, enjoying a beautiful summer Sunday in each other's company. We met new friends. We reunited with old ones.

 

We all wished the day would never end.

 

_Wishing?_

 

But now it has ended, as all days eventually must, and we must all return to whatever it is we choose to fill the remainder of the day with. Personally, I'm going to watch a documentary.

 

So, from me and from my expanding collection of monsters- goodnight, Night Vale.

 

Goodnight.

 

 

 


End file.
